She grabbed my jacket sleeve. “Onto the desk! Quickly!”

The desk. We could reach it if we jumped from the sofa’s arm. This had somehow turned into the most terrifyingly real version of The Floor Is Lava ever.

“You first,” I told her, kicking the magazines off the table. They sank with a faint splash, as though the yellow liquid was as harmless as water.

With a swift nod, she stepped onto the sofa. The potion was only halfway up the cushion, but when she dropped down on it, the plush foam dipped and yellow fluid flooded in. Black steam burst from her shoe.

Her shriek rang out as I wrenched her back off the sofa—and the potion breached the tabletop. Scooping her up in a bridal carry, I jumped onto the sofa arm. The padding shifted under my feet and I wobbled precariously. Lienna clutched my shoulders.

Bending forward, I coiled my legs and sprang again. I landed on the desktop in a skid, sending papers cascading over the edge. The crystal decanter with its ugly sunflower top fell off and landed with a splash.

“Are you okay?” I asked sharply.

Gulping, she nodded. “It didn’t burn through my shoe. Just a little splashed my ankle.”

I tipped her onto her feet but didn’t let go of her waist as I skimmed the room with growing dread. The potion was two feet deep and rising—and we were even farther from the door. Would the potion keep flooding the room until it was completely filled? There were no vents in the ceiling. No gaps or escape routes. The only way out was through the door and we couldn’t reach it.

Lienna’s thoughts must’ve been racing in the same direction as mine, because her hands tightened into fists around the front of my shirt. I pulled her closer without thinking.

We clung to each other as liquid death crept toward our small island of safety.

“There must be a way to stop it,” she whispered, a tremor in her voice. “What if it got triggered accidentally? Rigel would—”

“He’d need to disable it,” I agreed urgently. “But how? An incantation? An emergency stop button? What?”

“I don’t know!”

In almost perfect unison, we released each other, dropped into crouches, and scrabbled across the desk. I yanked open the one drawer that wasn’t submerged while she felt underneath the desktop where Rigel had sat, searching for a button or switch.

The liquid continued to rise. Was it my imagination or was it gaining speed?

I shoved aside pens and staplers and whiteout bottles. Mundane office supplies filled the drawer. Nothing resembled a “stop the inevitable flood of agonizing death” trigger. I pulled out a black address book with a leather cover and tossed it on the desktop, then reached into the drawer again.

The potion rippled at the drawer’s edge, then spilled over, filling the bottom. I yanked my hand away as droplets splashed my fingers. Spots of burning pain erupted on my skin and I shoved back to my feet.

Lienna jumped up too, and I didn’t really think about it. I just reached for her hand. She grabbed it, fingers squeezing hard. The potion lapped at the desktop. Too soon. We needed to figure this out. We needed more time. We needed something.

A trembling inhalation rushed through her lungs. Were we going to die here? What a freakin’ awful way to go. Dissolved in acid from the feet up. Goddamn Rigel and his sick mind.

Jaw clenching, I grabbed Lienna by the waist. She yipped in surprise as I lifted her off the desk and up to the cabinets. Scrambling on top of them, she crawled into the low gap under the ceiling.

I stood on the desk, chest tight, lungs straining to get enough air to my panicked brain. The potion curled over the desktop’s edge.

Lienna’s pale face angled toward me. “Get up here, Kit!”

“I won’t fit.” The gap was too small. She barely fit on her own.

“Do it!” she yelled.

Potion rushed across the desktop, and I jumped for the cabinet. I hauled myself up and into the cramped space. She flattened herself down as I slid on top of her, my back against the ceiling.

Breathing hard, I peered down at her. “Why did you roll over?”

Fear hazed her brown eyes. “Huh?”

“You were lying on your stomach a second ago.”

And now she was on her back, so we were pressed front to front. Her soft chest pushed against mine with each frantic breath she took, my knees on either side of hers, my elbows braced beside her shoulders.

She blinked, then scowled. “I didn’t—it just happened.”

“Yeah, okay.”

We stared at each other, our noses inches apart, as the lethal potion climbed the cabinet.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have brought us down here.”

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have touched anything.” She swallowed. “Kit, I’m also sorry for—”

She broke off with an airless pffff as my weight came down on her. I barely noticed as I leaned sideways, my stare locked on an object bobbing in the rising potion.

The crystal decanter, filled with what I had assumed was red wine.

Nothing else in the room was floating—everything else had sunk or dissolved immediately. But even more suspect was that gaudy sunflower stopper, which was the same shade of yellow as the potion.

“That’s it!” I gasped. “The decanter is full of a potion that will save us!”

“What?” she yelped. “How do you know it’ll—”

“I don’t know, but we need to try!” I pushed up on one elbow, straining for a better look. The decanter was bobbing in the vicinity of the submerged desk, too far for me to grab. “Shit, how will we get it?”

“Can you support me?”

It took us a minute too long to rearrange our bodies in the cramped space. The rippling potion was barely six inches below the cabinet top as she stretched out across the deadly fluid. I braced as best I could against the cabinet, her legs pinned under my stomach and my hands gripping her waist as I supported her lower body.

The only thing keeping her head and shoulders out of the potion was her own upper body strength. She stretched her arm out, the decanter floating just out of reach.

“Almost,” she gasped. “A little more …”

Muscles burned in my arms, and my back was cramping from the awkward pose. She stretched farther, pushing with her legs. My hands slid from her waist to her hips.

“Lienna,” I gasped.

Her fingers brushed the sunflower top. “Almost—”

“I can’t hold you.”

“Almost,” she breathed.

She pushed farther from the cabinet and I locked every muscle in my body as her center of gravity changed. My fingers bit into her hips.

“Lienna!”

She lunged to grab the decanter and I hauled her backward—but it wasn’t enough. We were pitching off the edge and I couldn’t stop it. As I fell, I shoved her toward the cabinet, red liquid spilling from the decanter in her hand.

I hit the pool of yellow potion with a splash and plunged under.

Cool fluid surrounded me. No pain. No burning. No flesh melting. I flailed my limbs, found the submerged desk, and got my feet on it. I stood, my torso bursting from the potion.

My ears filled with a horrified scream.

Lienna’s cry cut off a second after I reappeared from the pool. I blinked up at her, sprawled on top of the cabinet with one hand stretched out as though she’d tried to catch me. The empty decanter floated on its side a few feet away, jostled by the waves from my fall and reappearance.